


alphabet

by sweetheartbitterheart



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheartbitterheart/pseuds/sweetheartbitterheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's closing the circle on a p, and in her head Casey couldn't help but sang q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, and z...</p>
            </blockquote>





	alphabet

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last year and originally posted it on FFN. It's overly fluffy and sweet.

It was one of those rare moments in their life where the two worlds that they both occupied reached a sense of equilibrium.

Outside, traffic was quiet, subdued in the early morning light. Underneath the thick white duvet, Casey counted their shared breath.

One, two, three, the numbers hang effortlessly.

She tucked her head closer underneath his chin, her hand splayed firmly against his beating heart.

One, two, three, the minutes ticked by.

They never talked, not because they're savoring the peace or enjoying the quiet. They just found a better method of communicating.

Her fingers always drew patterns that held no meaning but always caused his heart to pump a little bit faster underneath her ministrations. He used the expanse of her back as his personal page, drawing loops of letters that formed lyrics he never could write down on paper, and things he's not sure he's ready to say.

He always started with the alphabet, lingering unconsciously on the letters of her name. She pretended not to notice, content in drawing triangle over his heart.

He's closing the circle on a p, and in her head Casey couldn't help but sang q, r, s, t, u, v, w, x, y, and z…

She waited for the random scribbles of words she sometimes caught and most of the time lost.

He trailed a long, singular line down her spine, pressing each rod with even pressure.

Nine lines and a circle later, she held her breath.

"You," he whispered in her ear a second later.

She's not sure if he meant it, couldn't help but hope that he meant it.

She wrote _me too_ across his chest, the double o looping together over his heart.


End file.
